Angel Standing By
by Unique Sandwich
Summary: When the Dark Kamui wears a different face, is the future still foreordained?
1. Prologue

**Angel Standing By**  
by Kelsey  
  
Disclaimer: X belongs to CLAMP; the title "Angel Standing By" is the name of a song by Jewel, though the lyrics will not be incorporated in this fic.  
  
Warnings: Angst, seriously disrupting the X timeline, violence  
  
Pairings: Um, many. Try every pairing considered canon (or at least semi-canon) except for S/K, Fuuma/Kakyou, and Kamui/Kotori. F/K the main focus of the storyline, if the fic itself doesn't kidnap me and run with the characters.  
  
Notes: I have only a vague idea of where this is going. ^^;; I was obeying Karen and trying to think of an A/K fic, and the plot promptly grew to enormous proportions, demanded to encompass all the characters, and happily went about playing with the events of X from... oh, I'd say tankubon 8 onward.  
  
**Prologue**  
  
Waves lapped at their feet as Kotori and Kakyou walked side by side, waiting the silence for Fate to resume its inevitable tragic course. They both knew that this brief, quiet interlude was merely the calm before the storm, but while Kakyou awaited destiny with helpless despair, Kotori turned her small knowledge of the future over and over, searching for some way, any way, to prevent the pain she sensed coming for the two dearest to her.  
  
_I will die for the Earth. Kamui-chan will kill me so that the Earth won't shatter,_ she thought, at peace with her future. As long as those two were safe and happy, she could go to her death content. _But if Kamui-chan kills me... won't Onii-chan be sad?_ She bit her lip as she pondered this. She had never consciously tried to see the future, had always been a little afraid of the quicksilver world of dreams, but she had to try.  
  
_Even if I drown in that Sea of Tears that Kakyou rescued me from... I will try._  
  
The beach scene dissolved as Kotori slid even further from consciousness, into the dark realm of Prophecy, where true dreams waited to be born in the mind of a yumemi, where the yumemi was little more than a spectator and not a master puppeteer of dreamstuff.  
  
_Kamui-chan!_ she thought, then realized her mistake as she was assaulted with a welter of symbolic images. Kamui would decide the future of the Earth and humanity, was a major focal point of Fate and Prophecy, of course there would be thousands of dreams about him. There was something curious about all these dreams, however... All seemed to leave off with the final confrontation on the Tokyo Tower. It was if the future simply ended at that single point in time, its eternal cycle broken.  
  
Bubbles escaped from her mouth as the dreams continued to rush past her. She couldn't think, couldn't _breathe_ in this storm of Prophecy. The clash of swords, the splash of blood, the screams of the dying...  
  
The dying...  
  
_Of course._  
  
Wires ensnared her sinking body, lifting her up and binding her firmly to a large cross made of debris. This vision was different; Kotori was not merely watching her future, she was _feeling_ it. The wires dug into her skin despite her efforts not to struggle, and she closed her eyes in pain.  
  
"KOTORI!!!"  
  
She opened them again slowly, saw Kamui pinned to a wall by glass pieces and a pole thrust into various parts of his body. Leathery black wings, hazy and unclear, beat uselessly. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry out in horror, but was distracted by the sight of her brother, her beloved Onii-chan, telling Kamui that he would kill him. Angel wings shimmered on his back, not quite solid.  
  
And then she did scream, as he loomed over her, strangely beautiful sword in hand.  
  
The dream fragmented around her and Kotori tumbled off of the cross, landing facedown in wet sand. She picked her head up, spitting out sand as she met Kakyou's disapproving expression with one of defiance.  
  
"You don't want to see the future," Kakyou advised. His mouth compressed into a thin line. "It will only cause you pain."  
  
Kotori brushed the sand from her dress as she stood up, then cocked her head to one side, a little smile forming in sharp contrast to the tear tracks on her face. "Why are there yumemi?" She searched his face, wishing she could see his eyes.  
  
"Why?" Kakyou repeated, startled by the suddenness of the question. "Yumemi have always advised the leaders of Japan, though they don't always listen."  
  
Hope flamed in Kotori's eyes, hope bright and unquenchable and eternal as Fate itself. "Why have yumemi, if the future is unchangeable? The yumemi must serve some purpose." She clasped her hands in front of her, the light of Prophecy emanating within as vision overtook her. "The future... is not yet... determined."  
  
Kakyou watched, torn between cynicism and wonder that Prophecy had penetrated so far into her conscious mind. Hundreds of years ago, yumemi did not have even have to be asleep to prophesize, but time had weakened this ability to such an extent that to see dreams entailed some sort of physical sacrifice. What sacrifice had Kotori chosen to make? He knew the cost of attempted interference with Fate, remembering another smiling girl with light in her eyes. But even her manner of death had been part of the possible future, growing more and more probable as her personality developed. What did this ethereal girl-child hope to accomplish, trapped in the Dreamworld, uncertain in her power as a yumemi, and already destined to die?  
  
Prophetic light haloing her head, eyes distant and unfocused, Kotori made a sweeping gesture with one hand and the beach scene drifted away. Atop the Tokyo Tower, two Kamuis, one with wings of an angel and the other of a demon, flew towards each other, swords held before them. With another sweeping gesture from Kotori, they paused in midflight.  
  
"This future will not happen." Kotori's whisper rolled like thunder as she pointed to the two figures above her. Gone was her normal sweet timidity; Prophecy had taken hold of her and given her the conviction she needed. Even in her inhuman, angelic beauty, tears glittered at the corners of her eyes. "I will die for the Earth, but Kamui-chan... or Onii-chan... will not kill me. As my mother before me, I offer myself as sacrifice."  
  
Kakyou wanted to cry out, wanted to silence this new and undoubtedly unquestionable Prophecy, but remained silent. She would never forgive him for stopping her.  
  
The gears of Fate began creaking, adjusting to this new course of events, eternally spinning.  
  
"I will take my brother's place as Kamui-chan's twin star."  
  
And the girl wept as Prophetic light faded, as threads of Destiny strong as any chains wrapped around her limbs, binding her to her Fate, imprisoning her within her own heart so that the Kamui would have near-complete control.  
  
Kotori sagged, threads holding her arms up as her spirit slept, too much power spent to remain conscious even in the Dreamscape. Her body would continue to function, damaged though her mind was, and that was all that was important.  
  
Kakyou knelt before her, face grief-stricken. Another sacrifice, another little light quenched. The future could not be changed, no matter whose face the Kamui wore. Her feeble attempts to thwart this Future would not make much of a difference.  
  
choice choice Choice Choice CHOICE CHOICE **CHOICE CHOICE CHOICE**  
  
_"I want to protect the place where Fuuma and Kotori are."_  
  
The inevitable Choice.  
  
A window in the Dreamscape opened and Kakyou watched the scene unfolding, saw the water rush away from the trio as a startled Kamui and Fuuma beheld Kotori's smirk. Power surrounded her body in a crackling nimbus.  
  
"You have Chosen," the Dark Kamui said, looking up into Kamui's face with Kotori's eyes.  
  
"Kotori! Can you see me?"  
  
Power flared, knocking Fuuma and Kamui to the ground. The Kamui watched expressionlessly as they fell.  
  
"As there must be a Kamui of the Dragons of Heaven, so must there be one of the Dragons of Earth," she intoned.  
  
"Kotori...?" Kamui's whisper was agonized, pleading. Fuuma groaned, touching a gash on his head, obviously stunned from the blow.  
  
The Dark Kamui stalked towards the other one, Shinken held before her like an offering. Kamui's breathing became ragged, violet eyes reflecting the fear of the hunted. "Kotori, what...?" he asked weakly.  
  
_All foreordained,_ Kakyou thought bitterly.  
  
"Kamui... I will... kill you," the thing that wore Kotori's face whispered.  
  
Kakyou's gaze turned to Kotori's true self, locked in sleep. The child that dared to defy Fate. Would that her sacrifice had served any purpose.  
  
He touched her forehead, closing his eyes as his power flowed into her. "Kotori, he said softly, "if you want Kamui to live, you must wake up."  
  
Her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, bindings preventing her from falling to the ground. "Kamui-chan..." she said desperately, glancing at Kakyou with a piteous expression. "KAMUI-CHAN!" she shrieked, flailing against her bonds.  
  
The Dark Kamui paused, and then casually drove the Shinken into Kamui's palm. Kamui threw back his head and screamed, voice eventually dying away to agonized choking sounds. She thrust a piece of glass into the other hand, then turned towards Kakyou, as if she could see into his Dreamscape.  
  
"Dragon of Earth," she hissed slowly, cruelly. Kotori moaned, her struggles to escape progressively weakening.  
  
Kakyou's eyes narrowed and he allowed the vision to dissolve in its usual cloud of feathers.  
  
"Kakyou?" Kotori's voice was quiet, broken with tears. "Did I save them? Will they live?" Even in her torment, she could still smile a little. "I've seen what the other yumemi haven't, Kakyou. The reason that there are no visions beyond the Promised Day."  
  
He found himself listening despite himself.  
  
"I've already told you that the Future is not yet determined. In the end... it will be two humans that decide the Fate of Earth and humanity. Not some obscure set of prophecies. In the end..." Her voice trailed off, then she repeated her question. "Will they both live?"  
  
Kakyou looked at her, then knelt beside her in order to look into her eyes, revealing his own to her, golden and cat-shaped.  
  
"Yes," he answered. "Yes."  
  



	2. Chapter One

**Angel Standing By**  
by Kelsey  
  
Disclaimer: X belongs to CLAMP; the title "Angel Standing By" is the name of a song by Jewel, though the lyrics will not be incorporated in this fic.  
  
Warnings: Angst, seriously disrupting the X timeline, violence  
  
Pairings: Um, many. Try every pairing considered canon (or at least semi-canon) except for S/K, Fuuma/Kakyou, and Kamui/Kotori. F/K the main focus of the storyline, if the fic itself doesn't kidnap me and run with the characters.  
  
Notes: Done at last, and only three months after the prologue! ^^; The characters surprised me several times, but they were fun surprises overall, especially the person Karen chose to mother. ^_~ I fear the OOC monster, so let me know if you spot anything!  
  
**Chapter One**  
  
The world was a confused jumble of bright lights and babble, warped and twisted so that he couldn't recognize anything. Blurry faces swam above him, weaving in and out to the sound of concerned syllables forming words that he couldn't quite hear. There was something important that he had to remember. Something about Kotori. Something about Kamui. But Kamui moved away six years ago...  
  
Fuuma drifted out of consciousness.  
  
When he awoke, it was in a hospital room. Moonlight streamed in through the single window, illuminating the slender figure huddling on the chair. Kamui was curled into a fetal position, knees drawn up against his chest, head bowed as if to shut out the rest of the world. He was very good at that, keeping everyone at bay. For all Fuuma cared about the boy, even he hadn't ventured too close, fearing that Kamui would refuse any sort of contact at all if he took it too far.  
  
"Kamui," he said, sitting up in bed. He touched the bandages wound around his head. Why was he here? What was he forgetting...?  
  
With a muffled sob, Kamui got off the chair and sat next to Fuuma. He reached up with one hand as if to touch Fuuma's face, wincing as he did so. His palms were so heavily bandaged that his fingers appeared to sprout from a ball of wrappings.  
  
Though the rest of the world was still a little blurry, still faintly _wrong_, as if something was missing, the sudden rush of memory brought Kamui's face into sharp relief. Kotori with that dead look in her eyes... Kotori stabbing a sword through Kamui's _hand_... And once again there was that odd sensation, one of loss, but also one of... freedom? Some sort of restraint he had never known existed had been lifted.  
  
As Fuuma automatically took the shaking boy into his arms, guilt overwhelmed him. Of _course_ he had lost something, he had lost his little sister to insanity. The sight of Tokiko-san's remains drove her over the edge, distorted her personality into one of a sadist. There was no reason to feel free, other than that he was free of her sweet personality, her laughter, her light. Free of the one person alive that loved him unconditionally.  
  
What kind of freedom was that?  
  
"Fuuma..." Kamui looked up, eyes wet with unshed tears. "Are you all right? How's your head?" Shaking overwhelmed him once more and he buried his hot face in Fuuma's shoulder. It was all too much, he couldn't hold himself together any longer...  
  
"I'm fine," Fuuma lied, slipping into his accustomed role as protector. Really, what good would it do for Kamui if he knew how lost he felt at the moment? Orphaned, a mad sister loose somewhere in Tokyo, occult powers being thrown about left and right... Kamui knew something about all this, but he wasn't telling. The closeness he remembered so fondly from six years ago was gone.  
  
It was -- disconcerting, how empty that made him feel.  
  
Fuuma leaned back against the wall, careful not to disturb the other boy. He ran a hand through Kamui's soft hair, noted its calming effect, and idly toyed with a few strands in hopes of calming him down. He didn't understand why Kamui wouldn't just cry and get it over with. The boy he knew had never been particularly adept at holding his emotions inside; rather, he had drawn emotion out of others. Kamui had always been the only one able to make Fuuma laugh.  
  
He closed his eyes. _But we're not children any more._ How happy he'd been, seeing Kamui again, only to have all of his overtures of renewed friendship mercilessly cast aside. Then came the strange blank spots in his memory, the way Kamui sometimes flinched from his touch, violet eyes filled with an unnamed fear.  
  
_What's going on?_  
  
"I think he's asleep."  
  
Fuuma jerked upright at the melodious female voice, eyes searching the room. They lit on a woman with short, curly red hair, garbed in a black dress that was somehow elegant and casual at the same time. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, tightening his grip on Kamui.  
  
The woman smiled and he was struck by her beauty. She didn't have the angelic softness of his mother or Kotori, but a there was unique quality to her face and figure terribly _human_ in its loveliness.  
  
"I'm one of Kamui's protectors," came her soft reply. "One of the Dragons of Heaven, Kasumi Karen." She paused, puzzled by how he showed no reaction to the statement. "I just arrived here and stopped in to see if Kamui was awake."  
  
"Do you know what's happening, Kasumi-san?" Fuuma asked, deciding that Kotori would like this woman and therefore she was worthy of trust. Despite her innocence, his little sister had a knack for befriending good people. "Kamui shows up and there are earthquakes, people flying around Tokyo, and his aunt dies messily giving birth to a _sword_. He won't tell us -- me -- anything."  
  
Karen sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes luminous with sympathy. "You know how some say that the world will end in 1999?" Fuuma nodded. "It's true. Kamui has chosen to be a Dragon of Heaven, one of the Seven Seals fighting for humanity's survival." She hesitated for a moment, then continued, "From what Aoki-san told me, Kamui's twin star is destined to be the Kamui for the opposite side, in this case the Dragons of Earth, and that's what happened to the girl, Kotori..." Realization flitted across her features. "You're Fuuma, aren't you?"  
  
Fuuma nodded once more, mind churning. He'd always known there was something special about Kamui, always known he had strange psionic powers that Tohru-san never liked anyone to discuss, but the world's _savior_?  
  
"Kotori... wants to destroy humanity?" he asked finally, choking slightly on the words. "She wants--" his voice dropped to a whisper -- "to destroy me?" News of the apocalypse was not as devastating as this sudden comprehension. Kamui could save the world from some shadowy, evil opponent, but how would he cope with an enemy wearing a familiar face? What if saving humanity required Kotori's death? His free hand tightened around the sheets until his knuckles went white.  
  
Karen leaned over and placed a hand over his. "We're trying to save _all_ of humanity," she said softly.  
  
His fist slowly loosened from around the sheet as some of the tension drained from his body. Eyes closed, head bowed, he replied, "You are, aren't you."  
  
It was not a question, but a statement of hope.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Footfalls sounded in the room that no one had entered for years.  
  
The being that wore Kotori's form gave no indication of being disturbed when the room blurred and twisted about her, forming a Dreamscape composed of little more than darkness and a few stray feathers. Kotori, bound hand and foot, stood in a pool of stark white light, Kakyou beside her.  
  
"Yumemi," it said, now in its symbolic form of the angel-winged Kamui, "you have interfered with the workings of Destiny." Its voice was emotionless, flat, a cold statement of fact.  
  
Kotori raised her head, eyes darkening in pain when she saw the face of her dearest childhood friend. "I don't care. Kamui-chan will win now that I've changed things. I don't care what happens to me!"  
  
"The Other will be defeated," the Dark Kamui replied. "It will only require more forceful tactics than previously planned." It approached the girl, shrugging aside Kakyou's efforts to protect her. Kneeling beside her, it murmured in her ear, "Your mind is broken. You cannot withstand me for long."  
  
Kotori flinched away as far as the binding threads would let her, but the cry died on her lips as the Dark Kamui pressed its mouth against hers. Her eyes widened with shock and horror at the soft pressure against her mouth, at the strange, painful _tugging_ sensation that ran through her entire being.  
  
When it pulled away, her own face stared back at her.  
  
It -- she? -- smiled as Kotori sagged, coughing and choking. "I have drawn out your darkest desires, yumemi, integrated them into me, made them my own." Her expression changed, became soft and wistful. "Why don't you just give up? Won't it be much easier to merge with me completely? To be dead? You're never unhappy when you're dead, you know." She turned to the other yumemi. "That one knows this to be true."  
  
Kakyou glanced away from Kotori's stricken gaze. "Yes," he said at last.  
  
The Dark Kamui's gentle smile never faltered. "Then come with me, Kakyou. Weave dreams for me, and I will grant the Wish you so long for."  
  
Feathers drifted by.  
  
Kakyou fought the absurd urge to laugh. He'd dreamed of the Choice for so long, but he had never known how Kamui felt until this moment, forced to choose between light and dark, an angel and a human; to choose between his only Wish and a newly-awakened hope for the future. However, to shake off nine years of despair in an instant... it was too much to ask. He was a Dragon of Earth, after all.  
  
"I will go with you."  
  
The Dreamscape shattered, fragments melting away like the ephemeral things they were. The Dark Kamui pulled the curtains aside, looking down at Kakyou's sleeping face. She ran her fingertips over the wires connecting him to the machinery almost lovingly, then yanked them free.  
  
She picked up the yumemi and their destination took shape in her mind: City Hall.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
There was, Arisugawa Sorata reflected, no real point in going through all the effort of getting out a glass when he only wanted a sip of milk. After all, to wash a little-used glass would merely waste precious water, and despite being a proud member of the Dragons of Heaven, he wasn't out to _destroy_ the world...  
  
Comforted by this logic, he took a swig from the milk carton.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
Sorata's guilty eyes met Arashi's placid ones. Reacting out of instinct (not to mention experience with this sort of thing), Sorata promptly hid the carton behind his back and let out a nervous laugh. "Nee-chan! What a pleasure to see you!"  
  
Without so much as changing expression, she informed him, "You have a milk mustache, Sorata-san."  
  
He smiled then, dropping any pretense of innocence, noticing the subtle shift in her expression that corresponded to his own change in demeanor. He liked that, how attuned they were to each other, even if his Nee-chan didn't realize it. He'd always been unusually intuitive -- especially for a boy his age -- but meeting her... It had been easy, so easy, to discern her thoughts. More than that, he'd _wanted_ to know them.  
  
Arashi removed a bowl and a box of cereal from the cabinets, movements light and graceful, lending a sort of elegance seldom seen in such an everyday process. She moved like a ballet dancer. Like a swordswoman.  
  
"May I have the milk?" Arashi asked, startling Sorata out of his reverie. He handed over the carton, earning a serene "Thank you."  
  
"You know, Nee-chan, I was gonna make breakfast," Sorata said, folding his arms. He grinned, unable to resist adding, "I'd even bring it to you in bed!"  
  
She just looked at him, then replied, "Most boys can't cook."  
  
Sorata winced at the coldness in her voice. Would it kill her to give him the slightest bit of hope before he died for her? Honestly, it wasn't as if there was anything wrong with him... considerate, handsome, hilarious, he was a catch! "Well, for your information, I'm a fabulous cook!"  
  
Arashi nodded as if placating a boisterous child and then picked up the bowl, now filled with cereal. She'd even sliced up some strawberries. "Here."  
  
Now it was his turn to stare. "What?"  
  
Patiently, still as if she explained to a small child, Arashi said, "I'm making breakfast for everyone today. Do you want it?"  
  
"Thanks, Nee-chan!" Sorata took the bowl and made his way towards the door.  
  
"The dining room is in the other direction." Less than twenty-four hours in their new home at CLAMP Campus and she already knew where every door lead.  
  
He paused in the doorway, smiled at her. "I'm not gonna waste good food on _me,_ Nee-chan, not when Kamui should be wakin' up right now. A little food might cheer him up, not to mention fill 'im out a little."  
  
Sorata, humming to himself as he left the room, missed Arashi's bemused expression.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
A sizzle of electicity.  
  
"I have located our Kamui," Satsuki said from within Beast. Fingers skimming across liquid data, a touch of the keys, and the image of a dainty blonde girl carrying a long-haired man. She looked up, cold glass eyes in a china doll face, and smiled.  
  
"That can't be Kamui!" Kanoe gasped, body gone rigid with shock. _It was the boy, the boy Kamui loved most! That's how the prophecy went! The girl should be dead!  
  
Or... could Nee-san have been wrong?_  
  
"Data cannot lie. Beast cannot lie. It is our Kamui."  
  
Full red lips compressed into a thin line. Leaving Satsuki to amuse herself with her computer, she exited the room, long legs making long strides towards her chair. Seating herself, she tilted her head back, midnight waves of hair cascading down her back. The yumemi symbol glowed bright on her forehead and she stepped into her sister's dream.  
  
"Nee-san."  
  
Tokyo at night, glowing on the glassy surface of the ground, shivered and rippled as Hinoto rose out of it, encased in an Earth made of glass. Kanoe had long ago given up deciphering what that particular idiosyncrasy symbolized; the myriad of meanings were rather dizzying to contemplate and besides, most applied. Her beloved elder sister certainly was trapped by Fate, by her sense of duty to the Earth and its inhabitants.  
  
Kanoe stretched out a hand and a thousand glass pieces spiraled out of the sky, coalescing into the form of Kotori, known to Fate only as "the girl Kamui loved the most". "It appears your dream was wrong, Nee-san. She hasn't shattered yet."  
  
Hinoto shook her head, bells jingling. _{{The dreams have all changed. She changed them. She did something to Fate.))_  
  
"What did she do?" Kanoe asked even as she sifted through the most recent of Hinoto's dreams, flashing by on the surface of liquid that served as the ground. She never thought for too long about that, either, as it was headache-inducing. She'd loved analyzing the Dreamscape as a child but now, as an adult, she saw the necessity of simply accepting some things just as they were, without explanation.  
  
_There._  
  
Kotori stood above the sleeping form of the angel-winged Kamui, her glass wings refracting the light into rainbows. Face filled with an infinite tenderness, she touched him with one hand. The body dissolved in a flurry of feathers. Kotori's head snapped back, lips parted in a silent scream as the feathers flew into her mouth.  
  
Glass wings shattered and Kanoe cried out at the sound.  
  
A shredding, a tearing, a sound of the threads of Fate snapping, and Kotori wore the wings of an Angel. The Seventh Angel.  
  
"What will happen now, Nee-san? Will your dream of the future come true?"  
  
_((I don't know.))_  
  
"You can't change the future, you know. The girl or the boy... The Dragon of Heaven's Kamui won't be able to kill either one. He'll try. He'll fail. He'll die. The Earth's Wish will come true, and so will yours."  
  
Hinoto's horror was sufficient to produce a slight squeaking from her throat. _((No! My Wish does not include the destruction of humanity!))_ Her head drooped. _{{I only want to be free. I called the Seals here for that Wish. That Wish alone. I don't care about the Earth's.))_  
  
Kanoe shook her head, hair swirling with the motion. "That dream isn't about the future, Nee-san. It's a product of your Wish." _Otherwise, I would be able to see it. You can keep nothing from me, my sister..._ "That Kamui is too soft to kill anyone. Only when the world ends will your Wish be granted."  
  
Tears ran down the yumemi's face. "Kanoe! You'll die!"  
  
Red lips curved gently and somehow, impossibly, Kanoe's arrogantly beautiful face softened. "If it's for you, Nee-san, I'll welcome my death."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Everyone fell silent when Kamui and Fuuma entered the room.  
  
Kamui didn't like the sudden quiet, the feeling of six pairs of eyes boring into him. More than six pairs, he realized, as the administrator of CLAMP Campus was here along with the two men that never seemed far from him.  
  
"Now that everyone is here, I think some introductions are in order," Karen said lightly. "My name is Kasumi Karen." She smiled. "Kamui, I have a message for you. I would have delivered it last night, except you were all snuggled up with him."  
  
Kamui flushed while Fuuma merely smiled, recognizing the gentle teasing for what it was. He rather liked Karen, all things considered.  
  
Magic flared around Karen and in a voice not her own she said, _"Tell Kamui to guard the holy sword."_ She brushed a stand of hair from her face as the magic dimmed. "Finally, her spell is gone. I know that he--" she indicated Sorata -- "already told you, but I felt better telling you myself."  
  
"I _did_ tell him," he protested. "And I'm Arisugawa Sorata of Kouya."  
  
"Ise Jinguu's Kishuu Arashi."  
  
Yuzuriha smiled and waved. "Mitsumine Jingya's Nekoi Yuzuriha!"  
  
"I'm Kadokawa Shoten's Aoki Seiichirou." He smiled at Karen. "Karen-san, I remember you."  
  
"Ah, an old customer!" Karen replied, a mischievous glint to her golden eyes.  
  
_"What?!"_ Sorata yelped. "Aoki-san, you said you were _married!_"  
  
Karen laughed as Seiichirou said, "Well, er, yes, I am... married, I mean! I interviewed Karen-san for an article a few years ago."  
  
All heads turned towards the quietest occupant of the room, the man that politely turned away any attempts at conversation. He seemed lost in his own world, staring out the window.  
  
"Sumeragi clan, Sumeragi Subaru."  
  
Kamui's hold on the Shinken loosened when emerald green eyes fixed on him and Fuuma had to move quickly to prevent its falling to the ground. Fuuma really couldn't blame him, though... Sumeragi-san was downright _beautiful.  
  
Wait, what am I thinking?_  
  
"He's Shirou Kamui," he said helpfully as Kamui tried to collect his thoughts together. "I'm Monou Fuuma." He hesitated. "I know I'm not a... a Dragon of Heaven or anything, but..."  
  
The little dark-haired girl, Yuzuriha, put an end to that sort of talk from him instantly. "Of course you're welcome to stay with us, Fuuma-san! You don't have anyplace to go and I'm sure Kamui-san wants his friend with him."  
  
"I do," Kamui said softly, finding his voice at last. His voice changed, became stronger. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. And we _will_ get back Kotori."  
  
Fuuma forgot his previous admiration for another's eyes as violet and love and absolute faith pulled him into their depths.  
  
After a few moments, Nokoru spoke up. "Kamui, if you will follow me, I will take you to the place deisgned for holding your Shinken."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Sakurazuka Seishirou made his way to the basement of City Hall, ignoring the whispers about his lit cigarette, his sunglasses, and -- this induced a slight smirk -- his looks. Amazing how easily people believed that outward attractiveness meant a personality equally so.  
  
Well, he supposed, some found the predatory type attractive.  
  
There were seven others gathered around an evil-looking chair. Oddly enough, the pale man sleeping in it looked positively angelic. A contrast Seishirou could appreciate.  
  
There were others in the room, also his fellow Dragons of Earth. A smiling blond man, a darkly beautiful woman, a girl in glasses, a brawny man, and a white-haired... person. Male or female? Seishirou couldn't decide, and found that faintly irritating. He ilked to have all of the objects around him neatly labeled. Though one could argue that the label "looks like both genders" was unique enough for classification.  
  
"The sword belongs to you," the Dragon of Earth said to the last occupant of the room, puzzlement creasing its brow. "But you don't look like him."  
  
_The helpless little innocent is our Kamui?_ Seishirou wondered, now well and truly amused. _Kamui tried so hard to keep her alive, too. Ironic._  
  
"Don't look like who, Nataku?" Kotori asked, assuming an expression of mild curiousity. "I am Kamui, after all."  
  
Nataku shook its head, obviously confused. "The sword wanted to go back to the Kamui. The boy. The boy that looks like my father. It said that the Kamui was here."  
  
_She has a beautiful smile,_ thought Seishirou, relishing the disparity between his Kamui's eyes and the rest of her expression. He'd never seen a human other than himself or his mother achieve that kind of look.  
  
"I'm sorry that I can't look like your father." Kotori's voice was soft, so sweet. "Do I look like your mother?"  
  
Its face cleared. "Mother! You look like my mother!"  
  
"That's a good child." Kotori looked up into its face, radiating sincerity. "Your mother called you Kazuki?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then so will I."  
  
Now the woman in the tight dress moved forward, slinking across the floor. Another predator, Seishirou knew. The woman cupped Kotori's face, fingernails bold and bloodred against the white of the other's face. Another contrast of beauty, spun-gold silk to deep dark velvet.  
  
"My Kamui. I welcome you," she purred.  
  
_I may not be bored for quite some time,_ Seishirou mused as Kanoe drew Kotori into an embrace.  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter Two

**Angel Standing By**  
by Kelsey  
  
Disclaimer: X belongs to CLAMP; the title "Angel Standing By" is the name of a song by Jewel, though the lyrics will not be incorporated in this fic.  
  
Warnings: Angst, seriously disrupting the X timeline, violence  
  
Pairings: Um, many. Try every pairing considered canon (or at least semi-canon) except for S/K, Fuuma/Kakyou, and Kamui/Kotori. F/K the main focus of the storyline, if the fic itself doesn't kidnap me and run with the characters.  
  
Notes: Done at last, at last, at last! Big thank you to everyone who's reviewed ASB thus far. ^_^ This is the last chapter of plot build-up, and then let the battle for Tokyo begin! Hopefully the next chapters will come more quickly (action is always more interesting to write), and be longer than this one. @_@  
  
**Chapter Two**  
  
_"Subaru-kun."_  
  
There had always been something to the way he said his name.  
  
_I hate him,_ Subaru thought, ignoring the way the statement rang in the emptiness within. He'd grown used to a hollow existence, the forever-unsatisfied aching to be completed. To give one's heart away and then receive nothing in return is one of the most painful things a human being can experience, after all. _And Seishirou-san won't even finish the job and destroy my physical heart._ His fists clenched out of both anger and despair at the hot lance of misery slicing through him at his last thought. Proclaiming his hatred was easy. As for the feeling entwined with it, he kept that to himself and did his best to ignore it.  
  
Subaru closed his eyes, reminding himself that he'd already been over this a thousand times and one more session would not remove the love that destroyed his life. Theories, conjectures, all mattered little in the face of reality. He was one of the damned, a dead thing going through the motions of existence, kept from suicide because he could not take even the passing pleasure of his death from Seishirou. And the Sakurazukamori didn't even think him entertaining enough to kill.  
  
_Stop it. You have to prove yourself, and drowning in misery isn't the way to do it._  
  
But his hopes had risen so high earlier today, seeing him for the first time in so many years. He put up as much of a fight as his Wish would allow him, hoping to provide Seishirou with sufficient amusement at last. It had been going so well, and then that _touch_, and then nothing. The battle ended and Subaru was left with nothing but drifting petals and a streak of blood not his own on his cheek. The intimacy of the touch, the disgust/pleasure of the warmth on his face, stunning him into immobility. That _touch_...  
  
_Stop it._ Subaru lit a cigarette, recognizing where his train of thought was headed. Horrible, to be attracted to a man like that. To _love--  
  
Stop it._  
  
Thin white sunshine lit up the room as he pulled up the blind up. Reaching to open the window as well, Subaru considered his hands. Made paler by the light, they seemed a ghost's hands, slender and delicate and unreal. Hokuto used to call them pianist's hands, beautiful hands, hands that shouldn't be covered up by gloves.  
  
He opened the window, let the soft spring air in.  
  
The sense of unreality continued to plague him. It was the only way he could get through every day, letting everything fall away at a comfortable distance so he could observe it without emotion, with leisure. When the Sakurazukamori appeared, everything always sharpened to stark reality, narrowed to that single point in time.  
  
Strange, how he felt most alive even as he did his best to get killed.  
  
"Sumeragi-san, it's time for dinner."  
  
A hesitant voice from the direction of the doorway. Kamui stood there, concern on the surface of his face, deep sadness shadowing his eyes. The pain of betrayal, of seeing a loved one delight in causing pain. Subaru felt the tatters of empathy. That's how all of his emotions were, thin and tired, much like his body.  
  
"Sorata sent me to tell you," Kamui continued when Subaru showed no reaction. "I--I'm sorry if I bothered you."  
  
Subaru met the boy's eyes as he stubbed out the cigarette in an ash tray. "Thank you, Kamui. I'll be right down."  
  
Relief lit up Kamui's face and Subaru wondered how many hearts he'd broken with a smile like that. Visual poetry. Still, the misery so close to the surface of his expression... "Kamui, are you all right?"  
  
Hands thinner than even his fiddled with a shirt button. "Everyone asks me that, Sumeragi-san. I tell them all the same thing."  
  
"Just Subaru, please." He knew a polite refusal to speak when he heard one. Knew it from experience, from doing the same thing himself a thousand times. He also knew from experience that it did absolutely nothing for pain. The world's future savior couldn't afford to have too much emotional baggage.  
  
Kamui opened his mouth and Subaru said, "Tell me the truth, please."  
  
Politeness (or perhaps the gentle beauty of Subaru's face) appeared to work wonders on Kamui. "Subaru-san, you already know what happened. How can anything ever be all right again?" Voice brittle, he added in a whisper, "Fuuma can't even say that he's hurting. Everyone's always asking about _me._"  
  
"Things will never be quite the same, when you lose the girl you love," Subaru said, Hokuto's face flashing before him. "But it shouldn't define the rest of your life." He paused, considered the previous statement. "No, it shouldn't."  
  
Kamui said slowly, "You speak like you've lost someone important. Have you?" He flushed, realizing the personal nature of the question, and made an apologetic murmur.  
  
"My sister," replied Subaru, and did not elaborate. No need to depress Kamui further. "I'm not the best person to give advice, but I do understand... somewhat. I think Fuuma would understand even better. Just talk to him. Don't let him steer the conversation away from his feelings." He didn't like to make snap judgments, but the protective way Fuuma had of hovering around Kamui was unmistakable. Even Subaru, exhausted in body and spirit, had noticed.  
  
"Why did you let your sister's death define the rest of your life?"  
  
Subaru closed his eyes at the inevitable question. "Shouldn't you be going downstairs for dinner, Kamui?"  
  
And because Kamui had been trained to respect his elders, he took the hint and exited the room, leaving Subaru alone with the open window.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
"You're growing weaker."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"This is the last time I will be able to see you."  
  
Tears welled up in Kotori's eyes, but she did not shed them. A puppet on the strings of Fate, she sagged to the ground, cheeks nearly as white as her dress. Head bowed, she watched the visions of the future stream by in quick succession.  
  
Kakyou placed a hand on her wrist, felt its birdlike lightness. He could offer no comfort, no reassurance, not even encouragement. He knew the consequences of her choice, perhaps better than she did herself, knew that had she not made it, the Dark Kamui would have been held off for a greater length of time by the necessity of forcing itself into Fuuma's closed-off psyche rather than Kotori's innocent, broken one. Anyone would call her choice a foolish one. And yet...  
  
"You could have died, back then. Why didn't you?" Kakyou asked, curious. A painful death, true, but a clean one, not this slow fading away.  
  
Kotori lifted her head, face wearing a smile, one like sunshine from behind clouds. "Onii-chan is a lot taller than Kamui-chan. Stronger, too. And... and I've seen, in these visions, that he would have been crueler." Now her tears did fall, a gentle rain. "I wish... I wish he'd told me that _loves_ Kamui-chan. I never... never..."  
  
Images flashed through Kakyou's mind, Kotori's memories, tinged with sorrow and regret and love, always love. Her brother's gentle hands closing around an unconscious Kamui's, with a tenderness only a fool -- or an innocent -- could have mistaken for simple friendship. Image after image of a younger Kotori barging in on quiet interaction between the two boys, and these memories were undercut by guilt, robbed of the soft glow of naïveté.  
  
"I should have known."  
  
A thousand upon thousand clichés sprang to Kakyou's mind, but how would they comfort her? Did he know nothing that would offer her the merest shred of solace? Was he really so far removed from humanity? But for every excuse he could offer, there was a counter-argument. For every excuse he made to himself about Hokuto... he had brushed them aside, an insult to her memory. He could have saved her.  
  
What, then, could he say?  
  
A little sob broke the silence.  
  
"They forgive you."  
  
Her head lifted, and he read disbelief in her gaze, but no anger. "How do you know?" she whispered.  
  
"They love you," Kakyou said, speaking the one truth that would never be cliché. "And they love you too much to hold one mistake against you, especially one made in innocence. Besides --" with a smile -- "they'll figure it out eventually."  
  
She heard. She believed.  
  
Kakyou looked down at her, a weary sort of gentleness wash over him. Such a small thing, knowing someone loves you. One emotion from a seething sea of them, and yet it had the power to start wars, save lives, perform miracles. One girl's love had the power to change the course of Fate itself.  
  
The Dreamscape rippled beneath his feet.  
  
"Kakyou?" Kotori asked, voice a thread of a shadow of a whisper. "Help Kamui-chan. Please. I know he's not on your side. I know it's hard. But please."  
  
The visions of the future were gone, replaced by what looked like simple water. Kotori was waist-deep in it and still sinking.  
  
He passed a hand over his face, dispelling the illusion keeping his eyes from view. Kneeling so he could look her directly in the face, really _look_ at her, he promised, "I will help him, Kotori."  
  
She smiled with terrible serenity, an easy acceptance of her fate he'd only seen once before. And suddenly he longed for the ability to love that deeply, to _understand_ the sacrifice being made instead of watching it.  
  
"Tell Onii-chan and Kamui-chan that... I love them..." Her eyelashes fluttered, a weak protest against their closing. Water swirled around her shoulders.  
  
Kakyou nodded, old heartache and new joining together. Another goodbye...  
  
"Kakyou!" The last of her strength cut through the numbing despair. "Remember! The future is not yet determined! Remember!"  
  
Water closed over the top of her head, and the Dreamscape returned to its normal state of darkness. Kakyou touched his face and discovered moisture there. Discovered that, for the first time in a long time, he could _feel._ And all the while, Kotori's final words chimed in the air around him.  
  
_Remember... Remember... Remember..._  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
"Future world saviors shouldn't have to go to school," Sorata declared, folding his arms across his chest. Arashi rolled her eyes heavenward.  
  
Karen arched an eyebrow at him. "Scared?"  
  
"Of course not!" Sorata heaved a melodramatic sigh. "It's just... protecting Nee-chan from strange men will be that much harder!"  
  
Arashi smacked him on the back of the head with such force that he almost went face-first into his plate.  
  
"....." went Kamui, having just returned from answering the phone, only to be greeted with this scene of domestic bliss. "Um... Subaru-san's not coming," he said, lowering his eyes. Something inside him desperately wanted to know the reason for the emptiness in the older man's eyes, and their conversation from a few days ago had only heightened the desire. No one should have to live looking that _sad..._  
  
Rubbing the back of his head, Sorata frowned. "And I wanted to get a good meal into him. He's skinny enough as it is!" He looked the violet-eyed boy up and down. "You too, Kamui! Eat!"  
  
Kamui's face reddened, but he sat down next to Fuuma anyway. Almost everyone gave into Sorata when he was in a mother hen mood, even Arashi. He'd insisted on all of the Seals getting to know each other over dinner, saying that they couldn't possibly work together if they didn't know a thing about anyone else. Kamui agreed, up to a point, but now that Subaru wasn't coming...  
  
"School is important, Sorata-kun," Seiichirou lectured, waving a chopstick for emphasis. (Among other things, Sorata was greatly disappointed that _no one_ would call him "Sora-chan".) "I know it doesn't seem that way right now, but trust me."  
  
"I've never been to school," Sorata protested, "and look at me now! Intelligent, lovable... Nee-chan, why are you rolling your eyes?"  
  
Seiichirou, despite feeling that he fought a losing battle, continued, "Yes, Sorata-kun, but you were home-schooled at your temple, correct?" At the other's reluctant nod, he smiled. "You need to keep learning, and you're living on CLAMP campus, home to one of the best schools in the country."  
  
Sorata conceded defeat with a muttered, "Jii-chan never mentioned going to school came with saving the world."  
  
Dinner went on, with the ever-cheerful Yuzuriha and Sorata carrying much of the conversation. Kamui let their voices fade into background noise, staring off into space as he pushed the food around on his plate. This semblance of normalcy, how could the others stand it? Then again, one of _their_ childhood friends hadn't been possessed by an evil entity, _their_ mothers hadn't died in freak accidents that really were no accidents at all...  
  
Except one.  
  
Fuuma covered one of Kamui's bandage-wrapped hands with his own, giving Kamui a gentle smile. An answering smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and gratitude warmed the numb little hole in his chest. Honestly, he'd never understood how people could call Fuuma's face inexpressive; the emotions were there, though more in the eyes than anywhere else. But there was something different in the way Fuuma looked at him, something new, changed from when they were young. The unknown quality, whatever it was, made Kamui glow inside. Not the scorching sun of magic -- he certainly knew what _that_ felt like -- but... well, no point in overanalyzing it. Enough to know that if he needed the strength to keep going, all he had to do was meet Fuuma's eyes.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
Again, the hated question. Kamui sighed and replied, "I'm fine, Fuuma. Really." He poked at a vegetable with one chopstick, voice lowering. "How are _you_ feeling?"  
  
Fuuma opened his mouth and Kamui filled in for him, with a bitter smile, "Fine. You should eat your dinner." The younger boy lowered his eyes. "I wish you would stop hiding the truth. I worry about you." Fuuma's eyes reflected his surprise, evident to anyone who cared to look. Kamui did. "Is it really so amazing, knowing that someone wants the truth when they ask a question about you?" A little voice in the back of his head piped up, said _Maybe it isn't a good idea to have this discussion around everyone else_, but he ignored it. They weren't listening, anyway.  
  
The hand over his tightened, just a miniscule amount, so as not to hurt him, and Fuuma stared at Kamui, confused, not understanding in the slightest. Kamui sighed, realizing that, with no one to force him out of his shell for six years, Fuuma had only grown more reserved. Unexpected sadness rose in him, a painful knot in his throat. _"How are you?"_ Such a simple question, and yet how long had it been, since someone asked Fuuma that question and _meant_ it?  
  
"I'm sorry," Kamui whispered, wanting to apologize away six years of loneliness but instead saying, "You'll have to change schools, I mean. CLAMP Academy is the only safe place anymore." He offered a tiny smile. "But I promise to talk to you this time."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Fuuma murmured, back in the role of understanding best friend. There had been that tinge of feeling -- something akin to fear -- accompanying the question from before, but soothing Kamui's worries, _this_ was something he could do.  
  
"Dessert is served!" Yuzuriha chirped, drawing the boys' attention from each other to the other end of the table, where the inugami mistress held a burgeoning tray of bowls of chocolate pudding. Inuki barked once in warning as Sorata's hand snuck towards the tray.  
  
Without needing to ask, simply knowing, Fuuma stood and walked over, taking two bowls. Kamui watched him go, bit his lip, and continued to wonder whether his friend would ever stop being quite so selfless long enough to let someone in.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
"Satsuki-chan, you really work too hard," Yuuto said with a smile.  
  
She glanced down at him from atop Beast, weighing the advantages and disadvantages of the hand outstretched before her. The Sakurazukamori had failed to destroy the kekkai in Nakaya, only weakening it before losing to the Dragon of Heaven. Intentionally, as, by her calculations, that particular Seal was operating on three hours of sleep and a cup of coffee. Not at all in optimal condition. Ridiculous, battling one's mortal enemy like that. The foolishness humans indulged in.  
  
But then, Yuuto seemed different than all the rest, less... boring. Fascinating, in that she could not calculate his reason for fighting. Going by his history, he seemed to enjoy life, not the sort of person to wish to end it. Strange. Odd. Puzzling.  
  
Interesting.  
  
She took the hand, noting how her small her own felt in its warm largeness. Wires snaked from her skin, leaving it with all the reluctance of a lover. The humming from Beast changed pitch, going up a decibel to a s soft, insistent whine. Closing her eyes, sinking into that most perfect world of numbers, Satsuki thought/spoke, _Later._  
  
"What were you working on?" Yuuto inquired politely as he escorted her upstairs, where a tray sat on the table, steam rising from the teapot on it.  
  
Satsuki slid her glasses on, dizzy for a moment as the world (the real world, not the digital one, though sometimes they seemed interchangeable) came into focus. She looked at the table, all menacing angles and corners, no longer softened by her myopia. Then she dismissed the thought as impractical and sat down, watching Yuuto's hands move to pour the tea.  
  
"The kekkai at Nakaya. It needs to be removed," she answered, warming her hands on the fragile china before taking a sip of tea. Yuuto made good tea, sweet without being cloying.  
  
"Ah, Sakurazuka-san didn't finish?" he asked, stirring some sugar into his own cup.  
  
"It's very weak, but the Seal saved the last fragments." A shard of memory surfaced (_Don't be so cold, Satsuki, politeness is important!_) and she added, unconvincingly, "Good tea. Thank you."  
  
Yuuto looked rather surprised by this. "You're welcome." With a genial smile, "I meant it when I said that you work too hard. But then, you have to, when I do nothing and Shiyuu-san is out of contact and Sakurazuka-san moves independently. Only a few Angels doing anything about the End of the World."  
  
"Yuuto-san," Satsuki said, placing her cup back in its saucer, "why are you here?" She had never been ashamed to ask for answers she could not deduce herself, but there were very few answers she had been unable to, hence the slight discomfort she was experiencing now. A little prickling above her stomach, the irritation of embarrassment.  
  
He looked down into his tea, as if the answer to everything would rise from the liquid. Perhaps, for him, it would. Another smile (he had such a collection of them, something new for every occasion) and he met her eyes. "I'm not like Kamui, making ripples wherever I go, fighting the current of Fate. I think it's much more interesting to follow it as it goes, and see where it takes me." Laughter, warm and golden like rich summer sunshine. "That sounds rather romantic, doesn't it?"  
  
"I wouldn't know," was Satsuki's honest reply, as she studied him.  
  
_How can he answer everything and nothing at the same time? Why does that answer make so much sense and yet I don't know **why** it does?  
  
Are there mysteries I can't solve?_  
  
"Have some more tea," Yuuto said, refilling her cup.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
"I know that you're not supposed to be here."  
  
Kotori, reclining gracefully on Kanoe's chair, fixed frozen eyes on the dark-haired woman. She'd somehow gotten a change of clothes -- God knew where, Kanoe didn't -- and it certainly was a _change._ She somehow doubted that the former Monou Kotori's taste ran to black dresses that clung at the top and flared to a brief skirt at the bottom. The black boots completed the image, though all that blonde hair and the angelic face made the effect rather disturbing. Kanoe spared a single thought to wondering where her Kamui got the dress, then focused on the other's face, waiting for an answer.  
  
"What _do_ you know, yumemi?" Kotori asked, leaning forward and resting her chin on clasped hands. "The other one makes no mention of this." Her eyes flickered over to Kakyou's form, still save for the regular rhythms of breathing.  
  
_What must it be like,_ Kanoe mused, _to acquire a new and completely different personality, all in the blink of an eye? Who am I talking to?_ "Nee-san dreamed of the Kamui taking on the form of Monou Fuuma. Not his sister. Nee-san's dreams are never wrong. What did you do, 'Kamui'? What future have you wrought?" She reached up and touched her necklace, the smooth polished stones reassuring, comforting despite that the most important foundation of her world was crumbling: _Nee-san is never wrong._  
  
A strange joy, that, knowing Hinoto was not infallible. But those lying, selfish politicians would never believe that her sister made an error -- all they knew was that this was the year of the Apocalypse, of earthquakes, of the Promised Day. A weighty year, filled with matters of far greater import than the petty game of politics. It terrified the government. They would depend on her sister more than ever to tell them of Yet to Come. Kanoe could never set her free, not unless she gathered the Dragons of Earth, commanded them to free Earth from humanity's yoke. And when the world ended, Hinoto would rise from her cocoon of a body, transformed by divine fires, and escape human greed forever.  
  
Kotori stood, and her hair flowed with the motion, sunshine surrounding such absolute darkness. She couldn't be more than five feet tall, and yet she towered over Kanoe as she spoke, "The other yumemi sees no difference between one Kamui and the other." Their surroundings melted and they stood in the inky black of the Dreamscape. Glass shimmered in Kotori's hand, forming a cross. "This is what he sees." Her eyes bored into Kanoe's, as if imparting this truth by the mere force of her gaze. "This is what I am. Any change in appearance is unimportant." Expresssion almost gentle, she added, "I know your Wish, and will grant it. But only on the Promised Day."  
  
_She knows. She knows._ Kanoe's mind dipped and twirled and spun with this affirmation of the Kamui's power. But why grant it to _this_ Kamui, the one meant for the end of humanity? Why grant Wishes and give others (if not herself, by the nature of her Wish) the will to live? _Why?_  
  
"The Earth Wishes for a change," came the soft reply to her unspoken questions. The Earth, swirled with clouds, blue with ocean, shone in the darkness like a lamp. "To grant that Wish, I must rid it of its most ungrateful inhabitants. Humans, created to reflect 'the majesty of God', arrogant in that grandeur. I, 'one who hunts the majesty of God', will remedy the problem. Of both the Earth and humankind." Her smile was chilling. "No one is unhappy when they are dead. There is no point to living on a knife-edge, bleeding whenever you get too close, when you can be happy forever."  
  
_The absence of feeling is not happiness,_ Kanoe, always prepared to engage in philosophical debate, almost said, then pressed her lips together. The line of reasoning didn't matter, as long as the Kamui ended the world on the Promised Day, granted her much-beloved sister's freedom. Instead, Kanoe allowed a slow smile to cross her face, a smile calculated to drive men to distraction. Reaching out, she took the softly glowing figure of Earth, watching the clouds move as it hovered centimeters above her palm. "The Earth's avenging angel," she murmured, offering the globe to Kotori.  
  
She accepted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Soft, rosy lips, Kanoe noted, and not at all suitable to someone a normal person would call the Anti-Christ. But then, Lucifer had been the most beautiful of angels, if she recalled correctly. She'd paid only scant attention to much of the Bible, intent on gleaning every scrap of information from Revelations, _something_ to make her sister wrong. But no, it was all there... Dragons, earthquakes, everything.  
  
Everything blurred, and they were back in City Hall. Kanoe marveled at Kotori's proficiency in moving in and out of the Dreamscape; she didn't even have to close her eyes. One ripple, a blink of an eye, and there you stood. Then again, there was no fun in that, after the initial astonishment wore off. Kanoe preferred exits of a more dramatic fashion. (And _not_ melodramatic, no matter _what_ Yuuto's opinions were on the matter.) It took a certain style and flair to come up with a concept like fraying away, using the last tatters of her face to bid her sister farewell. The outstretched hand had been a lovely touch.  
  
"Do you believe?" asked Kotori, eyes intent despite their deadness, their complete lack of anything akin to humanity.  
  
A chill touched Kanoe's spine, ran a pale finger down her back as she nodded. Suddenly she wanted proof that this Kamui _was_ still human, not merely a killing machine in a shell. True, that's what the Kamui of the Angels was meant to be, but still... inhabiting a young girl's body, existing on a mortal plane, she must have _some_ normal emotions.  
  
She couldn't just be a pretty doll for Fate to play with. No more than the rest of them, at any rate.  
  
"Kamui," she asked, twining a dark strand of hair around her finger, "what are you? Is Monou Kotori somewhere sleeping inside that heart?" She put a hand over the girl's heart, felt it beating underneath fabric and warm skin.  
  
With another small smile, Kotori asked, "Does it matter?"  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter Three

**Angel Standing By**  
by Kelsey  
  
Disclaimer: X belongs to CLAMP; the title "Angel Standing By" is the name of a song by Jewel, though the lyrics will not be incorporated in this fic.  
  
Warnings: Angst, seriously disrupting the X timeline, violence  
  
Pairings: Um, many. Try every pairing considered canon (or at least semi-canon) except for S/K, Fuuma/Kakyou, and Kamui/Kotori. F/K the main focus of the storyline, if the fic itself doesn't kidnap me and run with the characters.  
  
Notes: Before I forget to mention this again, all lines from the original X text are translations from jahannam.net. They've been tweaked a little in places, call it artistic license. ^^; The two scenes that follow were originally only half of what was planned for Chapter Three, but they turned out to be so lengthy that it was cut in two. Sorry, but the action will start next chapter instead of this one. ^^;  
  
**Chapter Three**  
  
  
"_Kamui_!"  
  
He was getting rather tired of people exclaiming his name, whether with fear or anger or some combination of both. Hinoto's twin guardians glared at him, ready to defend their princess to the death. Well, he hadn't made the best of impressions, the last time he'd been here, tossing around threats, ready to use his powers to kill at a moment's notice. But... he'd been so alone then, cut off from everyone he loved, either by reluctant choice or death. No one to trust, no one at all.  
  
"I have something to ask you," he said. Blind eyes turned towards him, seeing through and beyond him, and he stood there, naked in every way but physically. Then the expression softened with sorrow, gentle for all its depth.  
  
_((I know, about the girl you loved most, and I have things to tell you.))_ She lifted a tiny hand and pointed to Fuuma. _((And you as well.))_  
  
"Me?" Fuuma asked, incredulous. He was here only because Kamui wanted him to be; he had no part to play in the Apocalypse, save that of a simple human, dependent on the Seven Seals to save him. And that... _chafed_ at his consciousness, his every protective instinct. Why hadn't he been chosen to defend Kamui, when he wanted to so much? The Seals were good people, nice people, but they barely knew him.  
  
_((The answers are all in the dream.))_  
  
Both stepped forward, each taking one of the yumemi's hands.  
  
Reality shattered into hundreds of glass shards, the pieces drifting down, down, into the infinity of the dreamworld they floated in. Fuuma fought down nausea as he looked at his feet, suspended in midair, so he focused on the warmth of Kamui's presence next to him, something real in this universe of abstraction and metaphor. Between the pair of them and Hinoto hung a miniature Earth.  
  
"Why did my mother die?" Kamui asked, each word heavy with sadness. He could feel Fuuma's start of surprise, and winced as he realized he'd forgotten to tell his best friend of this. Really, they hadn't had time for anything in the few days before Kotori... That thought was mercifully cut off as Hinoto made a gesture and they plunged down into the miniature Earth, refocusing on the Togakushi Shrine at night. Two women stood in the moonlight, and his heart skipped a beat in recognition.  
  
_"This is the last time. I won't say it again. Saya, please leave Togakushi."_  
  
She looked so _real_ right there, infinitely sad but real, and Kamui wanted to reach out and touch her but could not, restricted to the role of observer. A little wasp of misery stung him, right over his heart, and he tried to block out the image of his mother dying in flames.  
  
_"It's no use, because I've always known, since the time I met you, I was born for you." A soft smile. "And will die for you."_  
  
For the lack of better things to do, Fuuma clenched and unclenched his hands, hearing that gentle voice for the first time in six years. A dull ache that might have been released in tears when he was much, much younger thudded in his chest, in time to his heartbeat. Memories assailed him, the cookies and kisses and sunlight of his childhood horribly superimposed over his mother's dismembered body, sightless eyes still weeping. And yet... it was almost enviable, how she had been able to protect her dearest of friends, sacrificing herself in her place. Everyone but him, it seemed, had a greater purpose than simple existence.  
  
He was not surprised by his willingness to die for Kamui.  
  
_"Saya..." Helplessness darkened Tohru's face.  
  
"When I understood that, I thought I was so happy. I still remember back in high school, the day I first met you. And you?" Saya smiled, somehow cheerful in the face of impending death, and that made the expression all the more lovely, knowing that it would be one of her last. Smiles slipping away like the autumn leaves whirling around them, each one whispering of death and decay, of slow fading away.  
  
"How can I forget?" the other woman asked, a hint of bitterness in the question.  
  
"Good." Saya's gaze turned towards the window, and she smiled at the picture she saw there. Kotori clung to her father's arm, beaming at the two small boys occupied with their own little conversation. And Kyougo watched over all three with his usual patience for their childish antics, quietly enjoying their perpetual high spirits.  
  
Tohru, seeing the look, used the final weapon in her arsenal. "If you're not here, Kotori-chan and Fuuma-kun..."  
  
Leaves swept past, little death murmurs, and Tohru knew that she had lost. "This morning Kotori held my hand and said, 'Don't go anywhere.'"  
  
"Kotori-chan has inherited your power."  
  
For once, sadness came to Saya's expression as she contemplated her daughter. "No, Kotori is much stronger than me. I only knew about you." She looked up at the sky, and smiled again -- perhaps she only had so many smiles to use up before tomorrow -- to see the stars still twinkling, the moon still glowing, despite the little human drama taking place beneath them. "But I'm happy, because I have the power to know a little about the future, so I met you." She wiped away the tear trickling down Tohru's face, the gesture tender but not at all motherly. "Don't cry."  
  
But more tears slipped out, as Tohru wept at the realization that she could not save the woman she loved. "If it wasn't that you will die tomorrow, I wouldn't be crying." Her voice was definitely bitter now, bitter as the tears she was shedding.  
  
"Tohru... if hell existed, that's where I'd be going. He's a nice man. He gave me adorable children. But I've always been lying to him..." Neither of them needed clarification as to the identity of this "he"; to them, there would only be one. The kind, gentle reason that they never could and never would run away together. "But, no matter what others say, I'm happy."  
  
"If I had more power, then perhaps I could change the future."  
  
"No." The answering smile was radiant. "It's useless even if you're God, because only I can choose my future."_  
  
Shock raced through Kamui's body, leaving the taste of lightning in his mouth. If that was true -- and why shouldn't it be? -- then Kotori... she'd _chosen_ her future as much as he'd chosen his. But how could she bring herself to do such a thing? Was it because she'd gone mad when he'd made his fateful Choice?  
  
_"Only I can choose my future."_  
  
That sounded a lot better than the idea of Fate being predetermined, with no leeway or loopholes allowed. Saya-san... she'd been able to save a loved one. And he remembered his mother's hopes for him, that he might be able to change the future with the power of 'Kamui'. Maybe... this wouldn't have to end in tragedy.  
  
Though tragedies occur because they are inevitable.  
  
_A man and a woman sat on the floor, sunlight streaming in and casting shadows on the floor. The woman was serene, the man sorrowful, and they sat with the air of people waiting for something.  
  
"...Are you leaving?" Kyougo asked finally, reluctantly.  
  
"Yes. Today, at this place, the Shinken will be born. It doesn't matter when, as long as I have enough power to become the carrier..."  
  
He looked down at his hands, folded neatly on his lap, and broke the final unspoken rule between them. "It's for Tohru-san, isn't it? I know, ever since you first came to Togakushi, that you've only thought about one person."  
  
Now her hands moved, to clench the fabric of her skirt as she gave him a single shocked glance. "You..."  
  
"And I know it's Tohru-san."  
  
Her heart broke at his acceptance, and she knew then, had things been different, that she could have loved this man, lost herself in the peaceful depths of his love for her. "Why...?"  
  
"Why did I marry you? Because I love you, no matter who you are thinking about." Kyougo smiled at her, doing his best to reassure her, so that she would go to her death with no regrets.  
  
But oh, how she regretted her inability to smile for him! She'd selfishly used up all her smiles on Tohru, forgetting that others loved her, too, though she could not love anyone more than her best friend. What a pity, that Kyougo had fallen under her spell, and she unable to give him anything like real love, real happiness. If only she had tried to love him, just a little! Fool that she was, she had merely tolerated his embraces, his quiet affections, absently fond of him, pushing him from her mind whenever she was with Tohru.  
  
"...I... am... sorry..." she sobbed, still unable to leave him with a smile.  
  
"You don't need to apologize. You've been a good wife, and a good mother to the children."  
  
A good wife! She wanted to scream, to make him see her as guilty. A good wife would have been able to love him, would have never left her side of the bed cold for her best friend's arms. "Kyougo-san..." she whispered, little lights flickering around her like fireflies.  
  
"My responsibility is to guard the Shinken. Until the day the sword is in Kamui's hands, I will guard it with my life."  
  
Pain howled through her body, protesting the unnatural stirrings in her womb, hot and sharp and deadly. She tasted metal on her tongue, and did not know whether it was blood or the sword. The little lights coalesced into one, ripping her clothes to shreds, eating through flesh and bone. Her fingers sank into her abdomen with sickening ease, and her hand closed around the hilt, pulling the Shinken from her womb. As blood gushed from her body in hot splashes, she moved beyond physical pain, only able to give Kyougo one final apology with teary eyes before the rush of fulfilled Destiny overtook her with its glorious madness, and knew no more.  
  
Kyougo bowed his head, seeming not to notice the gore around him, or the glowing sword hovering in the air in front of him. "Saya..." he said, and one tear escaped._  
  
Fuuma reached out with one hand before he could stop himself, hurting at his father's obvious grief. Then coldness washed over him when he realized that it didn't matter, that both of his parents were dead and beyond any sort of comfort he could ever want to give them. He ached for his father, for his mother, for Tohru-san... And the implications of his father's words and his mother's apologies were not lost on him. His mother... had not just loved Tohru-san, she'd been _in_ love with her. That explained so many mysteries that it simply had to be true, as much as he'd wish it otherwise. Terrible, knowing that only one of your parents had loved the other.  
  
It was then that it registered that he'd watched the visions while encased in a glass ball, all of Earth's continents etched on its surface. He frowned, knowing he'd seen something like this before...  
  
_"Kill Kamui!"_  
  
"Hinoto-san," he said, and the blind seeress turned towards him. "Is there another woman that can walk through dreams like you? She has long black hair, and she told me that -- that if I wanted to stop Kamui from killing Kotori, that I had to kill him first." How could he have failed to ask her this sooner? The vision had been haunting his every waking hour until Kotori's madness and all the repercussions of Kamui's Choice distracted him.  
  
The yumemi's face grew downcast. _((That was my sister, Kanoe. She Dreamgazes for the Dragons of Earth, and she will do anything to bring about Kamui's death. But... I don't understand... that girl, Kotori, was fated to die no matter what Kamui chose. She should not have become the other Kamui.))_  
  
"What?!" Fuuma asked, and Kamui started at the sharpness of the word. "What happened to Kotori? _What happened to my sister?_"  
  
Hinoto searched Fuuma's face for a moment. _((My sister showed you what would have happened to Kotori, as I showed Kamui. That was her fate, and I don't know what changed. I did not foresee it in any of my visions. The Dark Kamui... should have been...))_  
  
Light pulsed from Hinoto's finger, and the glass Earths surrounding Kamui and Fuuma shattered.  
  
_"This is the sword you gave birth to with your life. I will protect it until the day it is handed to Kamui. I promise..." And Kyougo left the room, carrying the Shinken, and did not notice his young son standing in the corner, his eyes strangely blank.  
  
The boy slid the door open._  
  
"I don't... remember this..." Fuuma said, watching his younger self walk across the room, stopping at his mother's head. "I didn't see it until after Kotori found her." _Did I lose my memory like she lost hers?_  
  
The beginnings of realization curled around Kamui's heart, chilling him from the inside out.  
  
_The boy lifted his bloodstained hand, a malicious smile on his face, licked the blood off it, and_  
  
Kamui  
  
screamed.  
  
One arm going protectively around Kamui's shoulders, Fuuma just... _looked_ at Hinoto, disbelieving. "This didn't happen. I would have remembered. This didn't happen!"  
  
_((After that Shinken was born, you began to show signs of becoming the Dark Kamui,))_ Hinoto said, implacable in her conviction.  
  
"Then... all those times Fuuma didn't seem like himself..." Kamui murmured. He looked up at the older boy, eyes frightened. "When you didn't react to my calls, and you forgot what you said as soon as you were normal... But then, why is Kotori...?"  
  
_((I cannot tell you what happened, only that she somehow drew the Kamui into herself. But I can tell you why your mother died. Kamui, please watch.))_ Hinoto conjured yet another glowing Earth in her hands, and this time the scene refocused on a woman on the telephone. Magami Tohru.  
  
_"Yes, Kamui will definitely go to the academy. No, the Shinken at Togakushi right now is not Kamui's. I'm afraid it will probably fall into the hands of the other one. Another sword... will be born... Please take care of the sword until Kamui needs it."  
  
The phone clattered to the floor, smoking, and fire traveled up the length of Tohru's arm. "I knew it, I was no use..."_  
  
"Kaa-san!" Kamui cried, held back from running to the vision only by Fuuma's grip. He reached one hand out, tears burning in his eyes without falling, as if they were made of fire rather than liquid. Fire... "What's going on?! Why did the fire...?"  
  
Hinoto rose from the floor, still encased in her glass Earth. _((As kage-nie, she became the shadow of the one she wanted to protect, accepting all disasters in their place.))_  
  
"Who was my mother kage-nie for?!"  
  
_((The Earth.))_  
  
Reeling, Kamui could only stare blankly at some point on the horizon, and Fuuma pulled the smaller boy against his chest, shielding from the sight of his mother's slow demise. "Don't look, Kamui, don't look." _Don't look, Kamui, I will... so you don't have to..._ He watched it all, as the Kamui of a few weeks ago ran into the flames, heard his mother's final command, and wept over her charred remains. And then he met Hinoto's blind gaze, again so Kamui would not have to, and asked, "Why?"  
  
_((The temperature of Earth is continuously rising because people chop trees, pollute Earth, continuously make harmful waste. Kamui's mother, with all her power, could not save the Earth from global warming.))_  
  
Hinoto's face blurred and rippled away, and something tugged at Kamui, attempting to wrench him from Fuuma's arms. Both instinctively clung harder to each other, and the mysterious force had no choice but to bring them together.  
  
"So you are Kamui."  
  
The quiet voice belonged to a pale blond man, and Kamui, still nestled in the safety of Fuuma's arms, turned to look at him. "Who are you?"  
  
"Kakyou, the yumemi of the Dragons of Earth."  
  
_"So Kakyou's predictions were right."_  
  
"Kotori mentioned you!" Kamui said eagerly, hoping against all hope that this man would know something. "What happened to her? Do you know?"  
  
In response, Kakyou held up a hand, and a little glass figurine formed there, hands clasped, eyes earnest. _"Tell Onii-chan and Kamui-chan that... I love them... Kakyou! Remember! The future is not yet determined! Remember!"_  
  
"I was with her in her final moments, and this is what she said," Kakyou explained, letting the image disappear.  
  
"Then, Kotori is...?" Fuuma trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish.  
  
Kakyou looked at the two of them, something like pity showing through his blank expression. "She can no longer communicate with anyone, even through dreams. She offered herself in place of her brother, as her mother offered herself in place of Kamui's mother, and the Dark Kamui took her over completely, mind and body." Two dragons ripped and tore at each other in the glass surface of the Dreamscape, and he watched with the same blankness. "If the Dragons of Heaven win, people's lives will be saved and the present will hold. If the Dragons of Earth destroy all the kekkai, people's buildings will collapse, and a revolution will be here. Which do you think is more beautiful? The Earth will die like this; it is alive just like you, mortal just like you. If humans ignore that Earth is also a living being, and continue to abuse it, it will die. Do you really wish to keep this world?"  
  
Kamui paused for a moment, taking Kakyou's words in, and also the strong, reassuring warmth of the arms around him. He smiled at the yumemi, a simple, endearing one, and replied, "For me, the world consists of the people I love. If those people are not here... it's as if this world does not exist."  
  
The pale yumemi nodded once, a slight smile gracing his features, his image already fading away. "Perhaps, then, the future is as indefinite as that young girl believes."  
  
Kamui and Fuuma woke up.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Subaru leaned against a convenient wall, trying to ignore the exhaustion sweeping through him. Taking three jobs in a single day wasn't the best idea, perhaps, but even normally docile spirits had been stirred up by the coming Promised Day, increasing his workload tenfold. As Clan Head, he could always relegate simpler jobs to other onmyouji in the Clan, but the few times he'd tried it he always worried himself to distraction over it. After all, benign-looking jobs didn't always turn out that way, and if someone got killed...  
  
Besides, overworking kept him from dreaming.  
  
Fumbling through his pockets, Subaru finally found his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. His hand shook when he raised a cigarette to his lips. Maybe it had been four jobs today. His memory of anything after the second one was hazy, blurred at the edges. He stared into the tiny flame at the end of his lighter. It sputtered and went out.  
  
With tired eyes he looked up at the gray sky, noting for the first time the swollen clouds. Above the gritty smell of the city came the soft promise of a cleansing rain, and he continued to watch, not minding the droplets pitter-pattering on his face. He liked the rain, liked the way it drew over the world like a blanket.  
  
An umbrella blocked his view. Black, of course.  
  
Subaru wiped his cheeks, uncomfortably aware that the raindrops there resembled tears. And when his face was dry, he looked up, into an expression of emptiness and the honeyed nothingness of eyes. A flick of a lighter and a flame, and he supposed he should say thank you.  
  
So he did, and Seishirou smiled without meaning it, then told him it was nothing, which it was. Nothing. Done on a whim, no thought involved, no hint of prior planning, because that would involve some sort of _caring,_ give the action a meaning beyond mere reaction. Cigarette smoke overwhelmed the gentle rainy fragrance of the weather and Subaru coughed, suddenly wishing for the countryside. Anywhere but this city of the living dead, the hot industrial tang of souls gone cold and sooty.  
  
"You really shouldn't be out in the rain if you're getting sick, Subaru-kun."  
  
He bit his tongue to keep the spellwords at bay, because the anger roaring within him demanded release and he did not want to alarm passersby. He did not need another fight, another diminishment of his already dangerously low energy levels. But the irrational anger remained, and it enabled him to stay standing. It stiffened his back and held him upright when all he wanted was to collapse somewhere, anywhere. There. Into his arms, except he would only catch him if it amused him. It would depend on what kind of pain he wanted to see, which type of falling he wanted to watch. Studying him like a laboratory specimen? No, too clinical, even for his apathy. Playing him like an instrument, a better simile, appropriate. Instruments were objects of value, to be polished and taken care of but struck to produce unique notes. Struck again and again until at last the music came.  
  
Subaru ground his cigarette under his foot, ground it until even the ashes were fine dust. "I like the rain," he said simply, because it was true. He always told the truth to Seishirou, wondering if the other man enjoyed the novelty of absolute honesty. He didn't mind; Seishirou had never asked him for his greatest truth. He never would, and so the words were left to molder somewhere above his stomach, decaying in time to the thin beating of his heart. A slow, cruel poison.  
  
He didn't care.  
  
A hand tilted his chin upwards, and the delicate structure of his thoughts shattered in all directions, broken by a simple touch. From the depths of his sick heart rose an emotion, one he would not put a name to but felt nevertheless. Felt it with everything left of his tattered soul. Seishirou's face was barely out of focus, like he was looking through a window not quite right. He imagined he could see the glass dividing them.  
  
"Your eyes aren't focusing, either." The slightest brushstroke of displeasure shaded Seishirou's voice. Or perhaps Subaru was imagining things. "What have you been doing?"  
  
"That's really none of your business."  
  
"Subaru-kun."  
  
"It isn't," he insisted, trying to ignore the warmth of the other man's hand under his chin. His thumb pressed just below his lips...  
  
Now there was something different, a fundamental _change_ in Seishirou's expression, but it remained alien to Subaru, elusive as cigarette smoke. The name for it loitered maddeningly on the tip of his tongue, and he knew he would have recognized it in anyone else. Seishirou, always the exception. And still the name would not come, and he let it drift away from him.  
  
They stayed like that, poised on the brink of something. Life, death, a kiss--did it really matter, when it was the two of them? The rain misted its way to the ground, soft droplets fine enough to veil them in blurriness, like a painting with colors running into and over each other. They blended at the edges, overlapped to form a picture of light and dark, apart and yet touching, connected by the bridge of Seishirou's hand, neither white nor black but human. Subaru closed his eyes, no longer able to bear the weight of the other man's gaze, even from behind sunglasses. (Sunglasses in the rain? Why?) The moment stretched and shifted and then was lost, and the air took on a tinge of regret, for time lost and time mourned.  
  
The hand left Subaru's face and left a sharp, aching coldness in its place. "Let me walk you home, Subaru-kun."  
  
He nodded before he could give himself time to think about it, not bothering to question how Seishirou knew where he lived. Of course he did. He didn't really begrudge him the knowledge, only spared the briefest second wondering what he had done with this information. Did it really matter? Seishirou was walking him home, one hand closed protectively over his shoulder. Not all of his light-headedness was due to exhaustion.  
  
They moved their way through Tokyo's ever-present crowd of people, the warm little circle under the umbrella somehow a shield against not only rain but knocking elbows and stepping feet. None broke through that circle to shatter the fragile connection they had made in this encounter, a chance meeting. Or was it? Subaru almost wondered, then dismissed the idea as silly. The fact still remained that Seishirou simply didn't _care_ enough to do such a thing, no matter how much he wished to attribute that sort of human motivation to his actions. He'd done that once, learned from his mistake. The Sakurazukamori did not feel, did not operate like normal people. It was foolhardy to use others' behavior to identify his; he was a law unto himself and his ways were not anyone else's.  
  
The hand on his shoulder burned through the fabric of shirt and trenchcoat, branding him just as his as always. He rubbed the tops of his hands, amazed to find smooth skin rather than blisters raised in the form of a five-pointed star. Subaru's lips quirked upwards in a slight, bitter smile as he realized the cause of his actions. This inescapable fate of being a possession, a toy, a _thing.  
  
But... at least... I'm yours..._  
  
And that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? He _wanted_ to be his, if not quite in the way that Seishirou thought of him. But at least it was something. The thought skipped across his mind like a stone over a pond, leaving ripples in its wake. Did he really need to persist with this facade of uncaring? Was he fooling anyone but himself? Denying himself the ability to fully feel what lay within his heart accomplished nothing. With or without conscious acknowledgement, he was miserable.  
  
Self-delusion was also a form of deceit. A form of lying. In his tired and sleep-fogged mind, Subaru could only grasp one of the most fundamental of his truths: that _he_ would remain true, that he would not lie. Is there anything more devastating than dishonesty?  
  
He didn't think so.  
  
Seishirou stopped in front of the entrance to Subaru's apartment complex, not letting on whether he knew _exactly_ where he lived. He nodded once to Subaru, gave him the usual smirk-turned-smile, and Subaru gave him something unexpected: an answering one. The breaking light of a smile shone across his face, an expression made all the more gentle by its lack of innocence, its breathtaking heartbreak. A face that reflected the strange affliction of humanity: the greatest beauty comes from the greatest sorrow.  
  
Subaru had suffered greatly, and it was in his face.  
  
"Thank you, Seishirou-san."  
  
The older man's face _changed_ in that particular way again. One finger ran lightly across his cheekbone, once, twice, and Subaru shivered faintly with something that was not cold. The gesture was almost affectionate.  
  
"You're welcome, Subaru-kun."  
  
Subaru watched him go.  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
